


Sodden Silk

by TheseusInTheMaze



Series: Sodden Silk [1]
Category: Who Killed Markiplier, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blow Job, Complicated Emotions, Dreams, Knotting, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 15:37:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13707441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: What if things at Markiplier Manor had gone a little differently?





	Sodden Silk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kurokirisu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kurokirisu/gifts).



> Edited by Angel!

Damien paced across the floor of his study, his hands jammed into his pockets.

He wasn't usually one to pace - no, that was an utter lie.

He had always been an anxious pacer, a person who had to do something with all the nervous energy that was burbling out of his veins.

His butler eyed him, clearly worried, polishing the silver as Damien traversed the room yet again.

"You _can_ postpone the festivities," the butler pointed out. "Begging your pardon, sir," he added, almost as an afterthought. 

"Bah," said Damien. "I already agreed to go. I can’t just not show up, after I said I would."

The butler said nothing.

He was surprisingly good at that, all things considered.

Considering just how snarky he was in his day to day life, it really was a miracle when he kept his mouth shut. 

Damien wasn't sure if he appreciated it or not right now.

"I need to go to this party when I go to it," Damien said. 

The butler didn't say anything, just raised an eyebrow.

Damien ignored him. 

"So we have the gift?"

"And the gift, and the other gift, and your bag packed. Unless you'd like me to double check it for you, sir?"

"Do it," Damien said, and then almost instantly regretted snapping like that. "Please," he added as an afterthought.

The butler stood up, and went to go look through the larder.

"So," said Damien, to his reflection, "what now?"

* * *

Damien suspected that Markiplier had planned this like this for a reason. 

It would make sense, since the Mayor tended to be such a jerk, even for the fun of it. 

Alphas and Omegas were always on edge, around the end or the beginning of the month - everyone's cycles worked differently, of course, but most people more or less evened out, to a certain extent.

Everyone would be on edge, from their heats being on the way, or from being around other people's heats being on the way.

The only problem was... well, not to put too fine a point of it, Damien was a part of that himself.

He tried not to think too hard about being an Omega himself - it didn't come up that often, in his day to day life.

He was a big, strong man, a rich man, and _everyone_ knew that Omegas didn't end up rich. 

Everyone knew Omegas only married into money, didn't make it themselves.

And there were the stereotypes of male Omegas, specifically, and how they weren't good for much more than fluttering their eyelashes and cooing up at their big strong Alphas.

So fuck it.

Except... well, Damien, who thought that he had perfectly managed his heats, was now dealing with it creeping up on him.

And other people were going to be at the house soon.

Maybe the butler was right, and it would be a better idea to concentrate on other things, ask Markiplier to postpone the party.

... no, everyone would judge him, and they would _know_. 

He couldn't have them knowing.

He groaned, his skin already beginning to get pink, his temperature rising imperceptibly, but just enough that he was already starting to sweat.

Oh _god_.

He groaned again, covering his face with both hands, and cursed the heavens, as always, both for making him an Omega, and for making him... well, everything else he was.

Life had been easier before puberty, before he'd decided on this whole party, before all of this had happened.

Now, if only he could make it work in a way that would most benefit him.

He sighed, staring at himself in the mirror, and he carefully fixed his suit jacket.

He was going to do this. 

Why had he agreed to do this in the first place?

* * * 

Two nights before the party, Damien lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, his eyes half closed.

The heat was already beginning, right at the base of his spine, the tension in his gut beginning to build and build, his skin breaking out.

He lay in bed, in his silk pajamas, and he tried to formulate some kind of plan to deal with all of this.

Hmm....

Maybe if he tried to get himself off enough, he at least wouldn't be too distracted when it was finally time for him to get to work, as it were?

... that would require him to masturbate basically all night, but he could do that, right?

* * *

Damien lay on his back, his pajama shirt off, rubbing his cock through the silky fabric of his pajama pants.

He moaned, rolling his hips up into his hand, stroking himself carefully, his mouth falling open as he moaned.

The butler would be in his room, and wouldn't be able to hear anything that would be untoward.

Not that Damien really cared, one way or another, but it was the principle of the thing, at least in theory.

He wriggled his hips, beginning to rub a little faster, and wished, faintly, that he had someone to fuck him.

He wasn't usually one to bottom, whether in a heat or in general, but something about right this moment, in the darkness, with the silk whispering over his skin... it was doing something to him, something that he didn't know how to describe, except that he was moaning, he was squirming, and now he was full on humping his hand, like some wanton porn actor in an Omegasploitation movie.

Not that he watched many of those, ever since he'd figured out that he was an Omega, but still.

He rolled onto his stomach, and he began to hump the bed in earnest, his back arching, his butt wiggling.

God, but it felt good to press his cock into something soft and yielding, even if it was just his mattress. 

If he had an actual person to fuck, this would have been every kind of perfect, but he didn't - at least, not right now - so he was doing what he could, as he could.

Maybe he needed to hire a nice Alpha to pound him into the mattress and let him fuck them.

But it was too late for that now, and besides, it was probably a bad idea to do that kind of thing when he was so close to a heat.

He didn't want to wake up with a belly growing from some stranger.

Among other things, the scandal would be out in all of the papers, and he might not even be re-elected!

Hell, if anyone found out that he was an Omega he'd probably never return to politics, considering the way people viewed Omegas versus Alphas.

But, oh, the idea of someone just... sliding down the backs of his pajama pants, holding the cheeks open, and sinking in, inch by glorious inch.... 

He gasped, his hips bucking forward, and he came, his cock rubbing on the sheets, his toes curling and his hips juddering.

His cock was still twitching, over sensitive and desperate, as the pressure in his belly began to build again, leaving him sobbing, trying to get comfortable, trying not to lie on the wet spot.

Thank god for the giant bed that he'd bought, to be put in the mayoral mansion.

He groaned, pressing his face into his hands, and he spread his legs wider, bowing his back, wriggling his butt like he had an audience.

Imagine having an audience for this kind of thing.

Imagine someone seeing him like this, the great and mighty mayor, lying in bed and humping his mattress, moaning like an Omega in heat.

He wasn't an Omega in heat.

At least, not yet.

He was on his way to a heat, but maybe... maybe he could stave it off.

He dug his teeth into the pillow, still humping, and in his mind's eye, someone was pushing his face down into the pillows, as he moaned and groaned, as he was... as he was plowed by a thick cock, a thick cock that just split his ass in half.

Damien groaned again, louder this time, and he shoved his pajama pants all the way down, giving himself more room to move, and he slid his hand down towards his ass. 

He brushed the rim of his asshole with the tip of one finger, and nearly collapsed with relief - still dry. 

His heat wasn't here yet.

He was just... especially amorous right now, but he could deal with that.

As long as he wasn't trying to beg anyone to fill him up with some sweet, creamy dick, he was good.

And in the meantime....

Damien wriggled closer to the bedside drawer, and he groped through it, until he found the bottle of lube he kept there for this exact purpose.

... well, no, okay, he usually kept it there to stick his dick in someone else, but still.

It was lube, for sticking things into other things.

It just so happened that this time, he was going to be sticking his own fingers up his ass.

If he had the guts, maybe he would have called the butler in, asked the man to give him a good buggering.

God knew he knew that the butler was interested in him that way, judging by the looks he kept getting.

But no, he wouldn't be that improper. 

The butler had his responsibilities, after all, and Damien was many things, but he wasn't one of those creepy individuals who ran after the hired help.

So he rolled onto his back, slicking his fingers up, and he slid them up towards his own hole, tracing the very rim of it with the tip of his finger.

The lube was cold, and it was always a bit of a shock - his own slick, when he was in the right frame of mind, made the perfect lube, and was usually not quite so... well, cold.

But he slid his fingers inside of himself anyway, bucking his hips as his fingers slid deeper, until they were curling, as he felt along carefully inside of himself for his prostate.

He couldn't identify it by touch, exactly, but... oh, did he know it by feel.

He when he found the sweet spot, he gasped, and his hips bucked forward again, as he moaned louder, wriggling on the bed, completely naked, his sweat leaving a dark spot in his sheets.

He was going to need to replace them, soon.

They were going to be a mess, between the sweat and the spunk.

There was going to be... a lot of spunk, he could already tell, as he rubbed and tapped at his prostate, as he humped the air and filled the room with his own moans.

He was grabbing for his cock awkwardly, trying to keep the angle working, more or less.

It was sweet, so very sweet, pleasure racing up and down his back.

He remembered being younger, messing around with his friends, when they were all in the first throes of puberty, letting it take them wherever it would.

He hadn't slept around much with them much since then, although Markiplier was probably planning all of this to have everyone on edge.

... the guy was kind of a jerk like that.

Damien was fond of him - endlessly fond - but Markiplier had a ruthlessness to him, a way of disregarding other people's feelings, and it could be a bit... grating.

Markiplier just _had_ to be an Alpha, he didn't need to worry about things like heats, so of course he didn't actually worry about them, because why would he?

While Damien lay in his bed, moaning like he was being paid for it, adding another finger (after he added more lube), and the stretch of it made his toes curl and his eyes roll back in his head, as he began to pant.

He was panting like a dog, he was humping his own hand, imagining being fucked by some sexy Alpha - gender was irrelevant, all that mattered was that it was an Alpha on top of him, forehead to forehead, and then he would be filled with a knot, and he would be... he'd....

He came across his own chest in a gush, less cum than his first orgasm, but still enough to make his legs shake and his skin tacky.

He threw his head back against his pillow, panting like he'd been running a race, and he lay there trembling, trying to catch his breath. 

His ass was still squeezing his fingers, and he wished, faintly, that he had a dildo.

Maybe after all of this business at Markiplier manor, he'd buy himself one.

They made them with inflatable knots now - that would be pretty handy.

Or maybe he'd do one better, and actually find an Alpha partner.

Maybe not a... partner-partner, but at least someone to keep him company on the cold nights. 

Or the overheated nights, such as this one.

Sweat was still pouring off of him, and he was still panting, like some desperate beast.

Damien came three more times, thrusting into his hand, into his bed, his fingers curling and twisting inside of himself, until he was a sticky, spent mess, and it was late enough that he just needed to sleep.

He was going to smell absolutely _horrible_ when he woke up, but that was a problem for later

Right at this moment, he was just exhausted, and at least... vaguely satisfied.

He just had to not think about how desperate he was, and he would be good. 

Right?

Right.

* * * 

He woke up at his usual time, in a pool of sweat, and he groaned. 

He was still horny.

If anything, he was hornier than before, his balls swollen and his cock stiff and desperate between his legs.

What was he going to do?

* * *

He bought some pills.

They weren't strictly... above board, as it were, but they did something to him - his blood cooled down, stopped pounding through his head, and that was the important thing, right?

He had, admittedly, bought them from a slightly shady man at a gas station, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and the local Omegas message board recommended the guy very highly.

The relief was almost immediate - his head stopped pounding, his cock went down, and he was able to breathe again.

He took a long, cool shower, and then he went back to his duties, to get all the things done that he needed to do.

* * *

He was called by the colonel, when he was getting out of the shower.

He answered the phone, a towel around his middle, still pretty close to naked, and he shifted from foot to foot as the colonel babbled at him.

"So Celine is going to be there," the Colonel said, and he sounded genuinely distraught.

Divorcing his wife had been hard on him.

Damien tried to make sympathetic noises, while also trying not to roll his eyes.

It had been long enough - the colonel was certainly an... attractive man.

Damien had certainly entertained the fact of approaching his friend for some... company. 

When he'd been humping his bed and fucking his own hole, there had been a whole cast of characters populating his head, but... well, the colonel had been one of the cast.

But they'd been friends for such a long time, and he didn't want to ruin it.

Although then again, it would serve Markiplier right, for all of that business with Celine....

"You alright in there, old chap?"

Damien came back to himself.

The pills that he had been given left him a bit... loopy, and everything seemed to be happening a few feet to the left.

But he wasn't full of that ridiculous, unquenchable lust, so that was all that mattered, right?

"Right, sorry," said Damien. "My head went elsewhere."

"Think nothing of it," said the Colonel. "But look at it this way! We can have a nice swim in the pool, get stinking drunk like it was the old days."

"The old days," Damien agreed faintly.

Swimming.

Maybe that would help. 

"Looking forward to seeing you," William said brightly, and then he hung up.

"Right," said Damien. 

Um.

Okay.

Maybe those pills were doing something other than tamping down all that lust.

He sighed, and he went back to work.

* * *

That night, he asked the butler to change the sheets.

He read the bottle clinically, carefully - making sure there wasn't anything in it that would cause him serious damage.

They really had to work on making better heat suppressants. 

He was more or less functioning right now, at least.

The silk of his pajamas was rubbing against his skin, leaving it hypersensitive - or was he simply just picking up more, since he was hyper aware of what his own body was doing?

He didn't want to think about that too hard.

He didn't want to think of any of this too hard.

He flopped onto his stomach, pulling the sheets up and over his head, and he sighed.

They smelled like clean laundry, a friendly, nostalgic scent that left him dreamy headed and sleepy.

It didn't smell like sex, thank all the gods there weren't.

With a sigh, he burrowed down into the covers, closing his eyes and letting himself sink into the deep, dark well of sleep.

* * * 

He dreamed.

_Damien was young again, and he and William were tracking through the jungle, looking for... something._

_It was a great, tropical place, full of steam and heat, as sweat trickled down Damien's back, soaking into his shirt._

_And William was in front of him, cutting through the underbrush, holding a great machete, talking a mile a minute, the way he always did when he was anxious._

_Even in the dream, Damien was struck with a mix of annoyance and fondness._

_William never could shut up, could he?_

_And now they were nearing a great river, and they were stopping in front of it._

_"If we go through it, we'll drown," said William._

_"Are you sure?"_

_"Oh yes," said William, and there was Celine, on the other bank._

_Damien squinted._

_"The both of you should jump in," said William, and it was hard to read his expression, between the glasses and the thick, heavy mustache. "I think the water would do both of you good."_

_"If we go into the water, we'll turn into water," Damien said, because in the dream, it was vitally important that William know this. "If we're both water... then we're both water. There won't be a difference between the water that I am and the water that she is."_

_This seemed vitally important._

_Dream logic was confusing at the best of times, let alone when Damien's whole head was full of hormones and chemicals, fighting each other off._

_"It's inevitable anyway," said William, and he was looking Damien up and down, his expression changing from almost wistful to downright lecherous. "At least make it interesting while you do it. What's life without a little madness, after all?"_

_"But this isn't just a little madness," Damien said. "This would be losing... this would be having my whole self taken over."_

_And somehow, he was naked, and Celine on the other bank was naked, and it was vitally important that the both of them stay on their own banks._

_But William was naked as well now, and he was putting his hands on Damien's sweaty shoulders, he was kissing Damien, a long, deep, languid kiss, and Damien kissed him back, moaning, clutching at the Colonel's chest, shaking like a leaf._

_And they kissed and they kissed and they kissed, until they were like one being._

_And then William let go of Damien, and he shoved him back, into the river, and the rushing waters closed in over his head, the water entering his lungs, leaving him... leaving him...._

Damien sat up, panting like he'd been running a race, clawing at his own throat to make sure that he could still breathe, because... because holy fuck, that had been some dream.

He was drenched in sweat, as if he'd actually been fallen into a river, and he was shivering, but he was so hot at the same time.

His cock was hard and desperate against his belly, and he groaned, with pain, which shame, as his hand stole under the waistband of his pajamas to squeeze it.

He needed to take another pill, to get out of bed and find the little bottle so that he could calm down the hot, sweet singing in his blood, but the inside of his head was just too damn loud.

Some small part of him was convinced that when he got out of the bed, he would step into the river, and he'd be swept away.

As if he wasn't being swept away by his own lust already, as he began to rub himself, as he grasped his cock in his hand and humped and moaned, fucking the tight channel of his fist, his eyes sliding shut.

He'd seen William naked often enough - they'd been friends growing up, after all.

There had been a point where the lazy, easy nudity had stopped, and then they were... careful around each other.

He wondered, in the back of his mind, if William still had that scar on his side.

William had presented as Alpha, hadn't he?

He wouldn't be an Omega, and with a personality that... ridiculous, there was no way he could be Beta.

Damien's hand sped up on his cock, and then he was cumming, hard enough that he whited a little bit around the edges, his whole body tensing up, his feet planted on the bed, his silk pajamas soaking up even more sweat, as he shook and shook, trying to catch his breath, trying to get some hold of himself, because all of this flapping around and moaning was unsightly.

William would find it unsightly.

Unless he found it sexy.

Would William find it sexy?

Well, he'd found Celine sexy, even if Damien had always found her to be a bit of a pain in the neck.

But that wasn't his problem right now.

Right now, his problem was how empty he was, how badly he needed to cum, how badly he wanted someone on top of him, holding him down, fucking him so hard that he couldn't feel his feet.

... was that a thing that could happen?

He'd been fucked before - he'd had lovers of all varieties in his bed, at one point or another, but he'd never really had someone around when he was in heat.

What would it be like, to be fucked by an Alpha while he was in heat?

He'd been fucked by Alphas before, but usually it was... well, not to put too fine a point on it, usually it took a lot more work.

An Omega in heat gained a degree of flexibility that they usually lacked - Damien had put some things inside of himself while in heat that made him blanch in day to day life.

So taking an Alphas knot, when he wasn't in heat... that took work.

He'd done it, in the past, but it had taken a ridiculous amount of stretching and preparation, and two bottles of lube.

But right now... it felt like he could take a whole fist, he could take an Alpha's knot, he could take almost _anything_. 

God, he was so damn desperate.

He rolled onto his stomach, pressing his face into his pillow, bringing his hand down the back of his pajama pants, and he was already drooling more slick, which wasn't a good sign, but oh, was he thankful for it right now, as he slid his fingers inside of him.

His slick, which was a better lubricant than anything he'd get out of a bottle.

His fingers slid easily inside of himself, and he slid his fingers deeper inside of himself, curling them, so that the very tip of it was pressed right up against his prostate, and he made a gasping, desperate noise, shuddering like he was in pain, humping against his hand, his own ass squeezing around his finger, then his fingers as he added another one, another one, until there were four fingers inside of him, and his cock was twitching against his belly.

The room stank of sex, and his moans were barely muffled by the sound of his own moaning.

His knees gave out at some point, and now he was just humping his mattress like a horny teenager, his hips moving too fast, his cock rubbing against the inside of his pajamas, against the sheets, and he was leaking so much pre, so much slick, he was sweating, his hair pasted down to his scalp.

He was going to have to take a shower before he went back to sleep, and even the thought of all of that extra stimulation - the sensation of all of that water against his skin, the way his had would be filled with the drumming of the water, all of it, it just... left him limp, as he came yet _again_ , as his whole body shook, his breath coming in deep, gulping pants, as if he'd been crying. 

He was shaking, and the fingers inside of him were already getting wrinkled, and he'd be embarrassed about that, if he had it in him to get embarrassed about anything right now.

All he really had in him were his fingers, honestly, and that got a wry little chuckle out of him, as his over sensitive cock rubbed against the sodden silk. 

He shoved his pajama pants down, freeing his cock, and it was trapped between the bed and his belly, as his fingers curled inside of him, and he was humping the bed so hard that his eyes were rolling in the back of his head.

If he was being fucked by an Alpha, he'd be... at this point, the Alpha would have cum, he'd have been filled, filled to the fucking _brim_ , filled until he was cumming buckets and buckets, cumming....

Like he was cumming right now.

How about that?

This heat was really taking it out of him, if he wasn't even noticing his own orgasms.

He groaned, collapsing in a pile, his face in his pillow, and he sighed, shuddering, panting.

Stupid biology. 

Stupid fucking... body.

He groaned again, his eyes sliding shut, and he sighed.

He was going to be fine.

He'd take a whole handful of the pills in the morning, and he seemed to be out of cum for now, so he could sleep.

... hopefully.

* * * 

Damien woke up to soaking wet sheets, his whole body on fire.

He needed to calm down, before the party.

He needed to be presentable.

He needed to stop sweating, he needed to stop begging to be fucked like he was some kind of desperate, stereotypical Omega.

But for now... all he needed to do was lie in bed, catching his breath, trying to ignore the way the inside of his belly was twisting and curling like he'd swallowed a whole nest of snakes.

But oh god, he was... fuck.

Damien stood up, staggered towards his bathroom, and he grabbed the pill bottle, dry swallowing three of them, still shaking.

He would go to the party tonight.

He would make a good impression - he would make a _great_ impression, he'd have everyone eating out of the palm of his hand. 

Metaphorically, obviously.

Otherwise would be unsanitary.

There were other things he could do with the palm of his hand....

He sighed, leaning against the wall of his bathroom, and then he shucked off his sweat soaked pajamas, leaving him completely naked, to stand under the warm spray of the shower.

* * * 

The pills hit him like a ton of bricks to the center of the forehead, and he shuddered, but stayed utterly still otherwise.

He was still breathing, slowly and carefully, and the desperate, wanton neediness was finally leaving him, and he was a person again, and not just some needy, mewling Omega.

Thank god.

Now he just needed to keep taking the pills, until he was done with this heat.

He'd have to talk to his doctor about this - he couldn't deal with this kind of inconvenience.

His heats had been dropping off, since he got older, but apparently they weren't gone the way he had hoped.

* * *

He spent the rest of his day being productive - almost alarmingly productive, working on papers, arguing with people who were uncooperative, even going so far as to go out to get a haircut, making sure he looked his smartest.

He wanted to impress everyone, after all.

* * *

He arrived at Markiplier manner, gripping his cane, and his hands were barely sweating.

He'd topped himself off with the medication, of course, to make sure that nothing... unsightly occurred while he was at the party, but he wasn't too worried.

He didn't entirely know what the medication was doing to him, or what was in it, but he could look into it after the party.

It would be good to see Markiplier.

He missed the man, even if Markiplier was a regular scoundrel.

And of course, there would be William, and Damien was always glad to see William.

It was a pity that they didn't see each other more often, really - between one thing and another, they were both so busy.

... was Damien thinking so fondly of William because his damn heat was warping his mind, or did he actually mean it?

He couldn't really tell, at this point in time.

It was confusing and irritating - being in heat had made him stupid in the past, although usually not to this extent.

But Markiplier was slow to come out, and Damien ended up roaming the grounds, until he found William.

Who was swimming in the pool.

Damien's dream came back to him in a flash - the river, the jungle, the mingling....

He blinked the after images away from his eyes, and he looked down at his old friend, who was swimming like some kind of lake monster, paddling.

"Do come in, Damien," said William, in that odd voice of his. "The water is truly marvelous!"

"I think I'll stay out for now, old friend," said Damien, looking down at William.

He was wearing that ridiculous one piece bathing suit, paddling about, and Damien just. stared at him.

Watched the muscles move under his skin, watched the way the water plastered his hair flat onto his head.

Without those ridiculous glasses of his, they looked... kinder.

Less strange.

All of William looked less strange, sort of.

Or maybe Damien's hormones were messing with his head.

Damien made a frustrated noise, and William shot him a concerned look.

"You doing alright, old chap?"

"Never better," Damien said flatly.

And then he pulled his shoes and socks off, rolled up his pants legs, and put his feet in the water.

Because really, why not?

William grinned at Damien, a wide, toothy grin which was halfway to unsettling.

... the mustache didn't help with that. 

Somehow, it made the whole thing more menacing.

"Why do you have that thing on your face?"

Damien spoke without even realizing it, and he was regretting it almost as soon as it was out of his mouth.

That had been... rude.

Not exactly the way he usually spoke.

William seemed to be amused by it, though.

"What, my soup strainer?"

"Yes, that," said Damien. "Why did you grow it?"

"In all honesty?"

William pulled himself up onto the pool side next to Damien, getting Damien's pants leg wet.

"I wouldn't ask for anything else," said Damien.

He couldn't smell William, thank god. 

Everything was chlorine and pool smell.

"I'm well aware of how much I look like you and Markiplier," said William, and he laughed, clearly slightly embarrassed. "Hell if I know why, but we all have such similar faces. I thought I'd add something to make me... stick out a bit more."

Damien nodded.

He could understand that sentiment.

"You wouldn't look bad with some facial hair yourself, you know," said the colonel. "Add some mutton chops, or maybe age that baby face up a bit with a touch of a beard." 

"You've been saying that for a long time," said Damien.

William reached out, cupping Damien's chin, and Damien blushed.

His skin was tingling where William was touching him, which was... not his usual reaction.

Stupid hormones, making everything that much _more_.

"But I don't know," said William, still looking critically at Damien's face. "The baby face suits you."

"I do have some stubble, you know," said Damien, trying to hold on to some shred of dignity.

Did William's face look different, or was that all wishful thinking on Damien's part?

He had it bad.

Whatever "it" happened to be.

He was getting stupid, regardless, and it would probably be a good idea to get up and walk away, before he actually said or did anything stupid.

Instead, he stayed here, as William slid back into the water, stroking through it easily, like a shark or a dolphin.

Some kind of dangerous sea creature - and make no mistake, William was dangerous, even if it wasn't always exactly obvious.

Damien leaned back on his arms, watching William paddle about, and he curled his toes in the water, and tried not to imagine what it would feel like to have that self-same mustache pressing against his own upper lip, for his toes to be curling against William's calves.

Was the other man still as hairy as he had been, when they were younger?

Did body hair thin, the way the hair on the top of the head did?

He sighed, and he curled his toes again. 

He was thinking too deeply into this.

Once the party was over, he'd call one of those "Dial-an-Alpha" companies and see if he could get some kind of companion to ride this heat out.

He sighed gustily, and William shot him a concerned look.

"Everything okay?"

"Oh, you know how it is," Damien said, making a vague hand motion.

William looked at him, confused.

"Life was... simpler when we were younger," Damien said, aware that he was being evasive, not particularly caring.

"It usually is, yes," said William. "But we didn't have the fun we do now, did we?"

William was grinning now, and Damien was obviously reading too into things, because all he could see was lechery. 

... it had been far too long.

"Do you have a lady friend?"

Damien kept his tone light, in the spirit of polite inquiry.

William's face... fell. 

"No," he said flatly. "No, I do not."

"A gentleman friend, then," said Damien.

William's face did something interesting again, and then his face burst into a broad grin.

"You haven't changed a bit," he told Damien.

_That wasn't a no_ , thought Damien.

"I've got many friends," said William. "A gentleman such as myself must make a point of cultivating them."

"You make it sound like you're growing cabbages, not building relationships," said Damien.

"Well, what's wrong with growing cabbages?"

"I can't see a gentleman doing it," said Damien.

"Just because you've never seen a gentleman doing it doesn't mean a gentleman doesn't do it," said William, and he was making significant eye contact.

Hmm.

There was something going on here, and Damien was almost certain that he was missing it.

If only he could figure out what it was.

"We are still talking about growing cabbages, are we not?"

Damien tried to look sardonic, like he knew what he was talking about it, and they were both on some kind of gentleman's agreement. 

"What else would we be talking about?"

William began to do the backstroke, passing close enough to Damien with each lap that Damien could have reached out and poked him with a foot.

He was... awfully tempted.

William did not have much in the way of body hair, despite what that ridiculous mustache might suggest.

And his skin looked soft, in spite of the rugged manliness that suffused his entire being.

Damien wanted to put his hands on it.

What did William's cock look like?

Had it changed?

Would it be cut? Uncut?

What about his knot? 

What would that feel like, splitting him in half?

Would it split him in half? He'd taken his own fingers as deep as they could go, curling them.

William had long, elegant fingers....

And Damien was getting an erection.

Fuck.

Was it because of the hormones, or because of the things that he was thinking about?

For that matter, was he thinking about these things due to his heat, or for his own reasons?

Was he putting too much thought into this in the first place?

"I'd best be going," Damien said, aware that his voice was stiff, but not as stiff as his cock, which was beginning to throb like a broken tooth.

Oh _god_.

Damien smiled wanly, and made his way towards the interior of the house, carrying his shoes in one hand, his walking stick in the other.

* * * 

Damien sat at a bar stool, and he was trying to breathe, deep, calming breaths to center himself.

The pills seemed to be wearing off, and not in a simple, easy way; the arousal was filling him like water in a glass, leaving his muscles stiff, his cock throbbing in time with his head.

How could he be so sore, so empty, so desperate?

He rested his elbows on the bar, and he looked at Benjamin, who was currently cleaning a glass.

"Whiskey, straight," Damien croaked, aware of how horrible his voice sounded, not sure he could fix it.

Benjamin raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

Thank god for that - the man could be a regular asshole, when he was in the mood for it.

Markiplier had an odd taste for snarky hired help, which Damien would never understand.

... then again, Damien's own butler didn't exactly keep his thoughts to himself.

He just managed to sound like he was being servile, until the words caught up with your brain, at which point you knew you were being insulted.

Damien sat on his stool, stranded as a sea creature during low tide, and arousal broke over him like a wave.

The butler handed him a glass, and he clutched it like he was going to drown.

His slick began to stream out of him in a rush, like something out of an Omegasploitation movie.

He'd watched those, with Markiplier and William, in the old days, when they still didn't understand the complexities of... well, all of this business.

Small, delicate Omegas clinging to the legs of big, strong Alphas.

But it didn't help that he was just... sitting here, his hand shaking, drinking carefully.

His suit was going to need to be washed.

His walking stick leaned against the bar, and he took another swig of his drink, his heart beating in his cock, in his ears.

And then William was walking in.

"Well, bully," William said cheerfully, and now he was wearing his regular clothes.

He didn't even smell like the pool anymore - something about this place always changed him.

William was grinning as he walked in, a bright, tooth grin that Damien could see out of the corner of his eye, but then... then he just stopped in his tracks.

"I say, old chum," said the colonel, "are you alright?"

"What do you think?"

Damien's voice cracked, and he hated himself for it, but didn't know how to stop it.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Damien looked at William, his eyes wide, and he licked his lips. 

"Do you have a room here?"

"Hmm?"

"A room," Damien said again. "Do you have a room here? Are you staying the night?"

"I do, yes," said William. "I am."

"How about we go to your room?"

"Of course, friend," said William, and he offered Damien a hand.

Damien stood up, leaning heavily on his walking stick, and... the slick that had been drooling out of him rolled down his legs.

William caught a whiff of it, and... froze.

His pupils dilated, behind those ridiculous glasses of his, and he licked his lips.

" _Oh_ ," he said, in a voice that was thick with... something.

"Oh?"

Damien tried to act nonchalant. 

It wasn't working.

"You're... you never did mention you were of that particular status," said William, and his voice cracked. "I... I was unaware."

"... help me," Damien said, aware that he was losing his composure, aware that he was shaking.

He had worked so hard to keep himself above all of this, and now, here he was, practically on his knees, begging.

... he'd wait to get on his knees, at the very least.

At least, not with the butler looking at them with something like lechery.

"Markiplier won't be available for a bit, should you wish to have a... rest," he said. "I'm sure the party will be able to go on, as you catch... your rest."

"Indeed," said Damien, and his voice was flat enough that you could have put a marble down without it rolling off.

... that metaphor got away with Damien, and he wasn't quite sure how to get it back.

But William was grabbing him by the hand, towing him through the manor's many rooms - William knew his way around this place better than anyone - sometimes Damien suspected even better than Markiplier.

And now Damien was being pulled into a room, with a huge, four poster bed, all dark wood and drawn curtains.

And then William paused, looking Damien in the eye.

"I need... permission," William said, and his voice was thick, even as he took his glasses off, putting them down on the nearest flat surface.

"Permission?"

"Yes," said William. "Have you never done this sort of thing before?"

"It has been a very long time," Damien said carefully.

"Well," said William, and he took a step back, shoving his hands into his pockets, very clearly shaking, with want or need or... something, "if you don't give me permission, I can't do anything."

"I'm an Omega in heat," Damien said, hating himself a little bit for it, but saying it anyway. "Isn't that permission enough?"

"No," said William. "If you just want to... to satisfy your heat with whoever you can do that by yourself -"

"I really can't," said Damien. "I've been trying. It doesn't work."

He could, theoretically, take more pills.

He was almost out, though.

Maybe if they just had a few rounds, he'd calm down?

That was the hope.

He'd get pounded, he'd get knotted, he'd be set.

That's how it worked, right?

He just had to remember that

He sighed, and he met William's eyes, which were dark with arousal.

The colonel was already beginning to sweat.

"I want it," said Damien. "I want all of it. I... submit to your Alpha ways, if that's what you've been waiting to hear."

"That's not how it works," said William. "You just need to tell me that you want me."

"I want you," Damien said. 

"Do you want me to fuck you?"

"I want you to knot me," Damien said, keeping his voice as calm and steady as possible, trying not to roll his eyes, trying not to get angry.

Why would he get angry - that would be dumb, being angry about something like this. 

But he was shaking, he was practically panting, and it was hard to think straight, when all he wanted was to shove William down, ride William into the next century, until all that he could feel would be the delightful stretch of the knot.

"Do you want me to kiss you?"

William took a step closer, until they were breathing each other’s breath, staring at each other in the dimness of the room.

"Do you want to kiss me?"

"Of course I want to kiss you," William said. "Why else would I ask?"

"I don't know," said Damien. "I don't know the rules for these sorts of things."

William looked awfully close to rolling his eyes, and then he was stepping forward, and he was kissing Damien.

William's mustache was as ticklish as Damien had expected, and then William's hands were coming up to cup Damien's face, and William's fingers were surprisingly gentle.

_Did he make love to his wife like this?_

William's tongue was gentle, and something about that... annoyed Damien.

"I'm not delicate, you know," he said, pulling back, panting savagely. 

"I never said you were," said William, looking faintly affronted. 

"So why are you being so delicate with me?"

William shrugged.

"That's how I do things," he said, as if that was a totally reasonable thing.

Damien made an annoyed sound, and he kissed William, kissed him properly, the way he usually kissed people.

Admittedly, he was usually kissing someone who was subordinate to him in some way; kissing an old friend like this, it loaned things an... oddness.

He was struck with the dream again - of the water, of the mingling, of the becoming one.

And then he was pressing closer to William, burying his hands in William's hair, twisting it in his hands, yanking William's hair back, and William moaned, his eyes sliding shut.

"Like it rough, do ya?"

William was smirking, his eye half lidded.

"I just might," said Damien. "If you'd like to make this interesting...."

"I can promise you," said William, "that this shall be an event you will never forget."

And then he was kissing Damien again, his hands sliding under Damien's suit jacket, fingers sliding up and down Damien's sides through the stiffness of his shirt.

Damian was moaning, his skin on fire, his whole body trembling, already bathed in sweat.

He was hard - so hard that his cock would possibly have permanent button marks, but who cared, because William was pushing down the coat, up and off, and then he was pulling on the bow tie, pulling it free, and there was air along Damien's neck again, as he gave a long, low sigh of relief, his own fingers going to William's jacket, unbuttoning it, shoving it down and off, then sliding his fingers under the suspenders, pushing them off of William's shoulders.

"You're so warm," William whispered in Damien's ear, even as he began to unbutton Damien's shirt. 

"Of course I am," Damien said, and he was beginning to pull at William's buttons, trying not to rip them off, not particularly caring if he did or not.

They came loose, one at a time, and there was William's chest, as hairless as Damien remembered.

Damien pressed a hand against William's chest, over one nipple, and found William's heart racing under his palm.

William was already dripping with sweat, his breath blowing like a bellows.

"If I didn't know better," Damien said carefully, tweaking William's nipple, "I'd have thought that _you_ were the one in heat, not me."

"I've been without... companionship since my wife left me," said William, his tone flat. "It has been a very long time since I've felt anyone else's skin against my own."

"That was practically poetic," said Damien. 

"I do have layers, my friend," said William, and he gave a smile that might have been rueful on someone else.

Damien kissed William again, because he didn't like that look on William's face, he didn't like the way that William was shaking against him, he just needed to kiss William, to pretend that this was a normal rendezvous, that he wasn't burning from the inside out, that his whole body would ignite like a cinder, and burn out.

And then William was leaning him towards the bed, even as they kissed, and the push-pull of lips was... comforting, familiar, like some half remembered song from his youth.

He let himself be pushed onto the bed, so that he was sitting, while William leaned over him, and then there was coolness across his chest and belly.

William must have unbuttoned his shirt.

When had that happened?

And then they were kissing again, hard kissing, and William's fingers were on Damien's skin, the callouses from... what was it that William, did, anyway, that left his hands this calloused? 

The rougher skin caught on Damien's own skin, and Damien moaned, as the tips of William's fingers caught on his nipples, rubbing in small circles.

Damien shuddered, his hands catching in William's hair, his cock so hard that it was hurting, like a broken bone.

He wasn't used to being this horny, wasn't used to the deep, incessant _yearning_.

He found it exceedingly off putting, but there wasn't anything he could do about it.

His fingers hadn't been enough to satisfy him, and now here he was, kissing William, as William began to pull his trousers down.

"Do we need... protection?"

William looked worried.

"No," said Damien, because he didn't have it in him to worry about that sort of thing.

In the extremely unlikely event that he ended up pregnant... well, he could deal with that.

In the meantime....

William was dropping to his knees.

That was unexpected.

So was the careful way that William was unbuttoning his pants, the way William was pushing the fly open, reaching into Damien's boxers.

He wrapped his fingers around Damien's cock, and then he looked up at him, through those long eyelashes of his, his lips impossibly pink.

"I say," said William, "I don't remember you being cut."

"Well, I have been," Damien said, his voice dry. "Unless you happen to encounter enough cocks that you've simply lost track."

William broke into a wide, tooth grin, which was honestly somewhat unsettling, as close to Damien's cock as it was. 

"Must be something like that," he said, his voice... cheerful, which wasn't something that Damien had expected.

And then William was taking the head of William's cock into his mouth, sucking on it, and Damien gave a full body shudder curling forwards, his fingers tangled in William's hair.

William's mouth was hot and silky, his tongue was wriggling in such a way as to make Damien's eyes roll back in his head, and William's hands were on Damien's inner thighs, forcing Damien's legs to be open wider

And Damien couldn't thrust forward, couldn't do much more but take it, as William began to bob his head, making wet noises with his throat.

When did William learn to suck cock?

Scratch that - when did William _perfect_ the art of sucking cock? 

Because holy god, this was... this was exquisite.

It wasn't scratching the itch at the base of Damien's spine, but it was at least prodding it, gently. 

Damien sobbed, and then bit back another one, his hands on top of William's head, watching his cock disappear into William's mouth. 

William... William sucked him like he was taking a sacrament, his eyes shut in what could clearly be seen as ecstasy, his eyes half shut, his mouth as wide open as it would go as he sucked and sucked.

Damien moaned - he moaned like he was being paid for it, and okay, so it had been a long time since he'd done this kind of thing, let alone when he was in heat.

His body was primed for it, and somehow, even after all of the slick that he'd already used up, even after he had cum again and again and again, he was still... he was still drooling pre down his cock, down into William's mouth, and everything was wet, everything was just this side of too much, but not close enough that he wanted it to end.

William was moaning around the cock in his mouth, bobbing his head up and down, sucking and flickering his tongue, doing who even knew what else, except that it was enough to make Damien go stone still, just... taking it, as sweat poured off of him.

He had a low grade fever, the kind that was usually brought on by heats, and he was panting, his mouth open, his fingers in William's hair, twisting them hard enough that it was like cheese wire, leaving marks in the skin.

Who cared?

Who cared about a blessed thing, because there was a hot, wet mouth around his cock, and... oh.

William took him deeper, until his nose was pressed against Damien's belly, and Damien's cock twitched, as it was squeezed.

_Oh_.

He was going to cum.

He was going to cum like a fountain, he was going to... he was going to erupt, there wouldn't be anything he could do about it, he was just going to cum and cum, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

He thought _I'm about to cum_ right before it happened - the pressure in his belly and the base of his spine broke like a bone, and he was cumming down William's throat, his whole body rigid, his hips jerking forward and his mouth falling open. 

He was still shaking as William licked him clean, carefully, and then William was... William was shoving him back, onto his back, then yanking his pants down further, taking his underwear with it. 

And William was... William was just lifting Damien's legs up, draping them over his shoulders, down his back, and he was spreading Damien's legs and just... licking Damien's hole. 

It was... unexpected.

Damien had been rimmed before, had done many things before, truth be told, but oh, the mustache was a bit much.

It was almost too much.

But not quite.

And Damien was thrusting his hips forward, his cock still hard, despite the orgasm.

He was going to get chafing, at the rate things were going.

But oh, _fuck_ , now one of William's fingers was sliding into his ass, crooking, and they were... right against Damien's prostate, and Damien was wriggling his hips, panting with his mouth wide open, and then he was gasping, because there were two fingers inside of him, and they were curling, knuckles bulging, stretching him open, as more slick poured out of him.

And William was... was making obscene noises, as he licked up again, taking one of Damien's balls into his mouth and sucking on it, and Damien was shuddering now, lost in sensations, beyond the point of even thinking in words.

Things were happening, and he was accepting it, letting it wash over him like a wave.

He came explosively, his cock spraying more cum across his chest, and he was going to need to wash everything, he was going to need... he didn't fucking know what he needed, except for William to keep fucking him, in every way possible.

... well, not every way.

William had done some traveling and seen some _shit_ , and who even knew some of the shit that he had seen, what he knew?

Or was Damien's mind just chasing itself in circles, as he thrashed on a bed, as one of his oldest friends fingered his ass open, pushing him closer and closer to orgasm.

He'd have to tell William, before this was over, that he wasn't usually one to cum so easily, nor so quickly. 

But now... now William was standing up, withdrawing his fingers, and his cock was thick and heavy, poking out of his own trousers.

When had William pulled his pants open?

Did it matter, as long as he got down to what it was that they were here for in the first place?

"Well," said William, looking down at Damien and licking his lips, "how would you like to do this, old friend?"

Damien fought - and, ultimately, won - the urge to roll his eyes, and he climbed onto the bed, remembering his own masturbation fantasies. 

He was on all fours, spreading his knees open, his arms folded in front of him, his face buried in them.

"I see," said William, and there were assorted rustling noises, as Damien kept his face in his arms, breathing the scent of his own heat, of his Omeganess, mixing in with the deeper scent of William.

"This is a classic for a reason, " William said, and one of his hands was on Damien's sweaty hip, his other hand carefully guiding his cock into Damien, the very tip of it tracing along Damien's rim, then sliding all the way in, as Damien's muscles pulled him in. "I barely have to push in," William said, his voice breathless as he slowly bottomed out. "You seem to want it all the way in!"

Damien shuddered, his eyes rolling back in his head, and he planted his knees a little more firmly, as William draped himself across Damien's back, nuzzled kissing into the back of Damien's neck.

It was too... tender, and Damien wriggled his shoulder blades, as if he had an itch.

And then William was leaning forward, and sank his blunt teeth into Damien's shoulder, and Damien gave a full body shudder, squeezing around the dick inside of him, his eyes rolling back in his head. 

_Fuck_.

The pain of it was sweet, flowing through him like water - like the water from his dream, and maybe it had been some kind of warning, about letting himself get caught up in his own arousal?

Did it matter?

William drew his hips back, then pushed them forward, still biting Damien's neck, and his other hand was on Damien's belly, then lower, to grab at Damien's cock, which was finally going soft, although it was already overstimulated and tender.

Damien was going to be cumming dust, when this heat was over.

But right now, more slick was drooling out of him, wetting William's thighs, drooling down his own thighs, and William was beginning to fuck him, carefully.

William was stroking his cock, William was holding on to his hips, and William was biting him again, hard enough to force a noise out of Damien's throat, as Damien shuddered, squeezing against the thick cock inside of him.

He was going to cum.

He was going to cum again, and he would clamp down on the knot inside of him - the knot that wasn't even there yet, but wow, that was a thick cock.

A thick cock that was getting thicker, as least at the base, and now William was shuddering, his hips working faster, driving his cock into Damien, and now _that_ was what Damien wanted, he wanted to be knotted, he wanted to be filled, he wanted to be stretched to his limit, and he didn't even realize that he had been babbling it, until the hand on his cock was moving to his face, and oh, he could taste his own slick, his own arousal, his own cum.

"Mustn't make too much noise," William said, right in Damien's ear, his breath hot and damp. "Don't want our fellow guests to know what we're up to, do we?"

Damien groaned, his bare toes curling against William's calves, and William gave a particularly hard thrust, and then the knot... the knot was inside of Damien.

Damien was knotted, tied to another human being by a piece of flesh the size of a fist, and it was... it was stretching him wide open, but that didn't matter, because he was knotted, and it was... it was scratching some itch in the back of his head, at the base of his spine.

... or was that another orgasm?

Huh.

Damien was far gone - far gone enough that he didn't realize he was cumming, as William came as well, came and came, and all of it was plugged up by the knot, as Damien writhed and shuddered, panting like he'd run a race.

"Oh my," said William, and he sounded winded. "That was a humdinger, wasn't it?"

... humdinger?

_Really?_

Damien shot a look over his shoulder, although he doubted that William would be able to read it.

He got a hand messing his hair up, and then William was lying on top of him, as his knees gave out, and he was already falling into some kind of sleep, his eyes heavy, his ass still gripping the knot inside of him rhythmically, as William released more cum, and then Damien was falling asleep, practically against his will.

He was full of whatever feel good hormones were being pumped into him with all that cum, and far be it from him to argue.

... actually, it would be very him to argue, but at this point in time it didn't seem to be worth it. 

He fell asleep, and he didn't dream.

One can be grateful for small favors. 

* * *

Damien woke up with Willam next to him, still snoring, and he woke up horny again.

He didn't know what time it was - was it even the same day? 

The dark wood paneling ate up the light, and the drapes were drawn, leaving the whole room in darkness. 

He was still pleasantly sore from the knotting, and he was tempted to just take care of himself, but... well, there was a warm, familiar body next to his own, and why take that for granted.

So he shook William awake, staring into William's face - they really did look alike, didn't they?

"Hmm?"

William blinked at him, eyes still not focusing, and then he was grinning.

"I say... ready for another round, then?"

"You could say that," Damien said, keeping his tone dry as dust.

More slick was sliding out of him, leaving him wet and desperate for more sex, more knotting, more... everything.

Who knew that he could be this needy?

"Well," said William, sitting up and putting a hand on Damien's shoulder, "I could certainly arrange that...." He kissed Damien with his whole mouth, his tongue sliding into Damien's mouth, their teeth occasionally clicking together.

"Aren't you the gallant Alpha," said Damien, and he tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice, because... well, he'd never liked being an Omega.

But to hell with it.

He straddled William's lap, keeping his eyes locked with William's, and the two of them just... stared at each other for almost a full minute, squinting in the dimness as Damien tried to read William's motives.

The air around them was heavy with hormones, with desperation, and with something else, something that was leaving Damien on edge, which was why he was leaning in and kissing William now, kissing his old friend as that mustache tickled his upper lip.

Damien's cock was hard, rubbing against William's belly, and then William was grabbing Damien by the hips, and there was some finagling, but then... oh, then Damien was sliding down, and his heels were in William’s lower back, and William's cock was as deep inside of him as it would go.

William's face... it did something.

Damien couldn't entirely read it, and wasn't sure if he wanted to.

He wanted to stay on top of William, to roll his hips, as William grabbed his cock and squeezed it, beginning to stroke it in time with Damien's own rolling hips.

Time went away, the world went away, everything went away; they were two people, connecting to each other on a primal level, staring into each other's eyes, until William broke the contact, and then time came crashing back, and Damien shuddered, from the base of his spine all the way up to his shoulder blades, goose bumps breaking out in waves.

He was going to cum again.

He was going to cum again, as the knot nudged at the rim of his hole, and he was just going... do it, and then they'd be done with this business, and he could take more pills, he could... he could....

He came with a muffled shout, his whole body going stiff, his cock shooting across William's belly, and then the knot was inside of Damien, and William was pushing Damien onto his back, legs in the air as he fucked into him, his knot buried inside of Damien.

Damien shuddered around it, and he was so _full_ , still tingling from his orgasm, and for a moment, something like contentment filled him like a fog.

And then a gunshot split the air.

**Author's Note:**

> Like this fic?
> 
> Want me to write you something like it, or something completely different?


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